984 


THEODORE   H.  HITTELL. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  e:ghteen  hundred  and 
seventy-two, 

BY    THEODORE     H.     HITTELL, 
In  the  Offica  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


UNIVERSITY 


GOETHE'S  FAUST. 


OF  all  modern  literary  productions, 
Goethe's  Faust  is  entitled  to  be 
called  the  most  remarkable  and  the  great- 
est. It  is  the  master-piece  not  only  of  a 
great  poet,  but  of  a  great  nation  ;  not  only 
of  a  nation,  but  of  an  age :  it  is  the  repre- 
sentative of  an  era  in  the  history  of  human 
progress.  Like  the  master-pieces  of  former 
ages — like  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  the  Divine 
Comedy  of  Dante,  the  Dramas  of  Shakes- 
peare—  it  has  in  its  peculiar  sphere  no  pro- 
totype. Like  them  it  may  be  followed  by 
many  imitations ;  but  like  them  it  seems 
to  have  preoccupied  its  own  sublime  re- 
gion of  poesy.  It  shines  there  in  the  bright- 
ness of  immortality,  and  no  successor  can 
be  expected  to  share  its  preeminence  or 
dim  its  unapproachable  splendor. 

This  wonderful  composition  was  the  work 
of  a  lifetime ;  and  of  a  life  which  not  only 
stretched  beyond  the  ordinary  limits,  but 
was  one  of  the  most  varied  in  all  the  pas- 


4  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

sions  and  experiences  of  human  existence. 
The  idea  of  writing  it  was  first  conceived 
by  its  illustrious  author  about  the  year 
1775,  while  he  was -still  comparatively  but 
a  youth ;  and  he  did  not  finish  it  till  the 
year  1831,  at  the  advanced  age  of  82. 
During  all  the  intervening  years,  includ- 
ing those  of  his  wayward  but  industrious 
youth,  those  of  his  sober-minded  manhood, 
and  those  of  his  ripe  old  age;  embracing 
the  intellectual  periods  which  found  their 
expression  in  the  passionate  sorrows  of 
young  Werther,  as  well  as  those  which 
produced  the  calm  Wilhelm  Meister;  those 
which  brought  forth  the  classic  Iphigenia, 
the  philosophical  Metamorphoses  of  Plants 
and  the  Theory  of  Colors;  those  which 
were  passed  in  tlje  hermitage  of  his  own 
study;  those  which  were  enjoyed  amongst 
the  'arts  and  artists  of  Italy,  and  those 
which  were  spent  as  a  literary  dictator  at 
the  most  learned  court  of  Europe,  and  as 
a  minister  among  and  a  participator  in  the 
most  stirring  scenes  of  modern  politics - 
during  all  these  years,  and  from  all  these 
different  provinces,  the  author  was  assid- 
uously collecting  materials  for  this,  his 
"  mystic,  unfathomable  song."  It  seems 
never  for  any  length  of  time  to  have  been 
absent  from  his  mind.  Though  he  may 
have  been  laboring  upon  the  other,  and 
different,  and  widely  separated,  subjects 


GOETHE'S  FAUST. 


which  enrich  his  voluminous  works;  though 
he  may  have  been  investigating  abstract 
scientific  propositions,  or  playing  a  part  in 
exciting  political  revolutions ;  the  Faust 
was  ever  present,  forming  and  maturing, 
in  the  depths  of  his  comprehensive  soul. 
It  was  with  him  in  his  studies  of  the  an- 
cient classics;  it  accsmpanied  him  through 
the  monkish  chronicles  of  the  dark  ages  ; 
it  strode  by  his  side  through  his  vast  read- 
ing of  mediaeval  literature ;  it  went  hand 
in  hand  with  him  through  all  the  wide 
ranges  of  modern  intellect ;  it  came  up  to 
him  in  the  visions  of  the  night;  it  became 
and  was  a  part  of  himself  in  the  thoughts 
and  deeds  of  the  day.  All  art,  all  science, 
all  human  knowledge  seem  to  have  been 

o 

put  under  contribution  Jbr  this  magnifi- 
cent work;  and  we  find  it  the  voice  and 
expression  of  the  most  advanced  degree 
to  which  human  culture  has  yet  arrived. 

The  main  scope  of  the  poem,  as  we  un- 
derstand it,  is  the  poetical  representation 
of  the  struggle  of  the  superior  or  cultivated 
human  intellect  against  the  barriers  with 
which  mere  earthly  existence  hems  it  in. 
The  argument  is  essentially  the  same 
which  the  great  poets  and  moralists  of  al- 
most every  age  have,  under  diverse  forms, 
made  their  theme  —the  encounter  between 
Free  Will  and  Fate;  the  fight  between  the 
aspiring  soul  and  the  iron  limits  of  neces- 


O  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

sity.  It  is  the  same  great  problem  which 
formed  the  substratum  or  basis  upon  which 
many  of  the  significant  fables  of  ancient 
mythologies  were  raised ;  the  same  which 
in  later  times,  and  particularly  after  the  in- 
vigorating and  awakening  influence  of  the 
Reformation,  assumed  such  gigantic  pro- 
portions in  theological  polemics.  In  Faust, 
under  the  plastic  hands  of  a  Goethe,  we 
have  it  in  an  entirely  new  and  original 
form.  Instead  of  drawing  down  a  demi- 

O 

god,  as  /Eschylus  did  his  Prometheus,  to 
be  the  hero  in  the  sublime  story,  Goethe 
takes  the  scholar  of  modern  times  —  one 
who  is  neither  raised  above  nor  sunk  be- 
low us ;  one  whom  we  feel  to  be  our  like 
and  equal.  Instead  of  the  vague  abstrac- 
tions of  the  metaphysicians,  the  poet  has 
thrown  the  whole  into  the  concrete  form  ; 
and  the  result  has  been  this  admirable,  all- 
embracing  dramatic  poem ;  this  master- 
piece, as  it  may  well  be  called,  of  the  eight- 
eenth and  nineteenth  centuries. 

The  old  German  legend  of  Faust,  or,  as 
it  is  more  familiarly  known,  The  Devil  and 
Doctor  Faustus,  was  in  a  few  of  its  main 
features  well  suited  to  the  purposes  of 
the  poet  in  his  magnificent  undertaking. 
Where  it  was  deficient,  he  rejected  it ;  and 
with  the  high  prerogative  of  genius,  he 
made  many  radical  changes  :  much  in  the 
same  way  that  Shakespeare  took  the  re- 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  7 

port  of  a  bloody  crime  out  of  Saxo  Gram- 
maticus  and  transmuted  it  into  the  philo- 
sophical story  of  Hamlet.  Goethe  gives 
the  legend  an  entirely  new  purport;  he 
adds  breadth  and  range  to  it ;  he  clothes 
it  in  entirely  new  adornments,  and  totally 
changes  its  conclusion  and  signification. 
That  he  has  done  so  is  one  of  his  great 
merits;  one  of  his  titles  to  our  admiration 
of  him  as  a  creator,  a  complete  master  of 
his  subject,  who  could  mold  and  fashion  it 
to  his  will.  Nor  is  it  any  the  less  a  merit 
that  it  was  natural  for  him  to  do  so.  He 
was  one  of  the  boldest  and  most  successful 
of  innovators.  His  works  abound  with  in- 
stances in  which  he  exercised  his  privilege 
with  an  effect  elsewhere  unparalleled  in 
modern  literature.  In  his  Iphigenia,  for 
example,  he  gave  an  entirely  new  reading 
to  a  celebrated  oracle  of  the  Delphic  shrine, 
and  constructed  upon  such  reading  a  poem, 
which  might  well  take  its  place  as  one  of 
the  Greek  classics;  different  from  the  class- 
ics, but  the  most  genuinely  classic  in  spirit 
of  all  modern  works.  Again,  in  science 
he  pushed  aside  with  an  unsparing  hand 
many  of  the  long  cherished  and  appar- 
ently well  established  theories  of  preced- 
ing philosophers,  and  opened  up  new  and 
untold  fields  for  investigation  and  discov- 
ery. He  was  the  first  to  call  in  question 
the  theory  of  Newton  respecting  the  nat- 


5  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

ural  philosophy  of  light :  and  though  the 
controversy  which  he  thus  originated  is 
not  yet  ended,  and  his  views  may  not  be 
adopted,  it  is  admitted  that  he  brought  to 
bear  upon  the  intricate  subject  a  greater 
degree  of  intelligence  and  sagacity  than 
any  other  since  Newton.  He  was  the  first 
to  enunciate  and  develop  the  great  theory 
of  transformations,  upon  which  the  mod- 
ern system  of  botany  may  be  said  to  be 
founded  ;  upon  which,  it  seems  probable, 
all  science  pertaining  to  organic  forms  will 
yet  be  based— thus  exhibiting  a  grasp  and 
power  of  intellect  which  entitle  him  worthy 
an  equal  rank  with  the  most  comprehen- 
sive and  subtle  minds  known  in  the  annals 
of  the  human  race. 

But  it  is  in  Faust  more  particularly  that 
this  gigantic  genius  has  shown  his  greatest 
boldness  and  exhibited  the  sublimity,  or,  if 
we  may  be  allowed  the  expression,  the  very 
perfection  of  innovation.  He  has  taken 
the  vulgar  legend  from  where  he  found  it, 
among  the  superstitions  of  the  people,  and 
with  his  mighty  hand  transformed  it  into 
a  drama  of  the  whole  circle  of  human  des- 
tiny; a  circle  which  commences  in  the 
eternity  before  time,  and  leads  through 
time  into  the  eternity  after  time;  or,  as 
expressed  in  the  poem,  from  Heaven, 
through  the  Earth,  to  Hell.  The  more 
we  contemplate  the  extent  and  character 


GOETHE'S  FAUST.  9 

of  his  attempt,  the  more  are  we  awed  with 
the  magnitude  of  his  daring.  It  almost 
appears  like  the  endeavor  of  a  modern 
Titan  to  scale  the  province  of  omnipo- 
tence ;  and  there  are  some  minds  —  minds 
which  are  too  narrow  to  comprehend,  or 
too  bigoted  to  appreciate  —  who  have 
branded  it  as  impious. 

Faust,  according  to   the  legend,  was   a 

~  c5 

learned  doctor  and  professor,  who  lived 
about  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, and  taught  at  the  City  of  Witten- 
burg,  in  Germany.  He  was  born  at  Kund- 
lingen,  in  the  province  of  Weimar,  the  son 
of  a  poor  husbandman  ;  but  was  adopted 
and  educated  by  a  rich  uncle,  who  sent 
him  to  the  university.  He  progressed 
there  so  rapidly  in  the  study  of  divinity, 
to  which  he  was  devoted,  that  when  the 
examinations  came  on  before  the  rectors 
and  masters,  it  was  found  that  none  of  his 
time  were  able  to  argue  \vith  him,  or  "  for 
the  excellence  of  his  wisdom  to  compare 
with  him."  With  universal  consent,  there- 
fore, he  was  made  Doctor  of  Divinity ;  or, 
as  it  would  be  expressed  in  modern  phrase, 
he  graduated  with  the  highest  honors. 
But,  continues  the  legend,  a  short  time 
after  he  obtained  his  degree,  he  fell  into 
such  fantasies  and  deep  cogitations  that 
he  became  the  object  of  mockery,  and  was 
called  by  the  students  "  The  Speculator," 


io  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 


or,  as  we  would  now  say,  "  The  Visionary." 
In  his  vagaries  he  would  sometimes  throw 
the  Scriptures  from  him,  as  though  he  de- 
spised and  contemned  his  profession  ;  and 
by  degrees  he  began  to  lead  a  most  un- 
godly life.  He  made  acquaintances  among 
and  formed  friendships  with  such  as  prac- 
ticed devilish  arts,  and  such  as  had  the 
Chaldean,  Persian,  Hebrew,  Arabian  and 
Greek  tongues.  In  connection  with  these 
he  learned  to  use  figures,  characters,  con- 
jurations, incantations,  and  many  other 
ceremonies  belonging  to  the  infernal  arts 
of  necromancy,  charms,  soothsaying,  witch- 
craft and  enchantment.  He  took  so  much 
delight  in  their  books  and  words  and  names 
that  he  studied  them  night  and  day;  till 
at  length  he  could  no  longer  abide  being 
called  a  Doctor  of  Divinity,  but  waxed  a 
worldly  man,  and  named  himself  an  astro- 
logian  and  a  mathematician.  For  a  pre- 
tense sometimes  he  called  himself  a  physi- 
cian, and  did  cures  with  herbs,  roots,  wa- 
ters, drinks  and  receipts.  "  And  without 
doubt,"  says  the  conscientious  chronicler, 
"  he  was  also  passing  wise  and  excellent 
perfect  in  Holy  Scriptures ;  but  he  that 
knoweth  his  Master's  will  and  cloeth  it  not, 
is  worthy  to  be  beaten  with  many  stripes." 
The  legend  goes  on  to  state,  at  great 
length  and  with  great  particularity,  that 
Faust,  after  falling  from  one  grade  of 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  I  I 

naughty  wickedness  to  another,  at  last  be- 
gan to  commune  with  the  lower  world  it- 
self, and  finally  conjured  up  one  of  the 
imps  of  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  named 
Mephistopheles.  It  graphically  describes 
how  this  devil  appeared  ;  first  in  the  form 
of  a  dragon,  hovering,  like  the  witches  of 
Macbeth,  in  the  foul  and  filthy  air;  then 
as  a  flash  of  lightning ;  then  as  a  globe  of 
fire ;  then  as  a  beast ;  and  finally  as  a 
monk,  in  which  shape  he  held  converse 
with  Faust.  With  like  particularity  the 
legend  sets  forth  how  Faust,  in  the  de- 
pravity of  his  heart,  wished  to  know  the 
secrets  of  Heaven  and  Earth  ;  and  how, 
being  otherwise  unable  to  accomplish  his 
purposes,  and  forgetful  of  his  soul's  sake, 
ana  contemning  the  commands  of  the 
Holy  Mother  Church,  he  entered  into  that 
infernal  compact  which  has  made  his  name 
immortal.  By  the  terms  of  this  famous 
stipulation,  Mephistopheles  was  for  twenty- 
four  years  to  be  Faust's  servant ;  bring 
everything  he  wanted  ;  do  everything  he 
required ;  at  all  times  appear  at  his  com- 
mand in  what  form  or  shape  soever  he 
wished,  and  accomplish  all  his  desires  to 
all  points  in  full.  On  the  other  hand, 
Faust  bound  himself  at  the  end  of  the 
twenty- four  years  to  belong  body  and  soul 
to  Lucifer;  and,  for  confirmation  of  the 
agreement,  he  executed  a  bond  to"  that 


UHI7BRSIT7 


12  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

effect,  written  in  blood — and  a  copy  of  the 
identical  document  is  duly  preserved  in 
the  history.  As  it  presents,  so  far  as  we 
are  informed,  the  only  specimen  of  this 
branch  of  the  law  of  contracts  in  exist- 
ence, it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  the 
curious  to  hear  it.  Having  opened  a  vein 
and  placed  his  blood  in  a  saucer  on  warm 
ashes,  Faust  deliberately  wrote  as  follows  : 

"  I,  John  Faustus,  Doctor,  do  openly  ac- 
knowledge with  mine  own  hand,  to  the 
great  force  and  strengthening  of  this  let- 
ter, that  since  I  began  to  study  and  specu- 
late the  course  and  nature  of  the  elements, 
I  have  not  found,  through  the  gift  that  is 
given  me  from  above,  any  such  learning 
and  wisdom  that  can  bring  me  to  my  de- 
sire ;  an$  for  that  I  find  that  men  are  un- 
able to  instruct  me  further  in  the  matter: 
Now  have  I,  Dr.  Faustus,  to  the  hellish 
Prince  of  Orient,  and  his  messenger  Meph- 
istopheles,  given  both  body  and  soul,  upon 
such  conditions  that  they  shall  teach  me 
and  fulfill  my  desires  in  all  things,  as  they 
have  promised  and  vowed  unto  me,  with 
due  obedience  unto  me,  according  to  the 
articles  mentioned  between  us. 

"  Further,  I  do  covenant  and  grant  with 
them,  by  these  presents,  that  at  the  end  of 
twenty-four  years  next  ensuing  the  date  of 
this  present  letter,  they  being  expired,  and 
I  in  the  meantime  during  these  said  years 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  I  3 

being  served  of  them  at  my  will,  they  ac- 
complishing my  desires  to  the  full  in  all 
points  as  we  are  agreed;  that  then  I  give 
them  all  power  to  do  with  me  at  their 
pleasure — to  rule,  to  send,  to  fetch  or  car- 
ry me  or  mine,  be  it  either  body,  soul,  flesh, 
blood  or  goods,  into  their  habitation,  be  it 
wheresoever :  and  hereupon  I  defy  God 
and  his  Christ,  all  the  host  of  Heaven,  and 
all  living  creatures  that  bear  the  shape  of 
God ;  yea,  all  that  live.  And  again  I  say 
it,  and  it  shall  be  so.  And  to  the  more 
strengthening  of  this  writing,  I  have  writ- 
ten it  with  my  own  hand  and  blood,  being 
in  perfect  memory;  and  hereupon  I  sub- 
scribe to  it  with  my  name  and  title,  calling 
all  the  infernal,  middle  and  supreme  pow- 
ers to  witness  of  this  my  letter  and  sub- 
scription. 

"  John  Faustus,  approved  in  the  ele- 
ments and  the  spiritual  doctors." 

Immediately  after  the  execution  of  the 
bond,  Faust  entered  upon  the  enjoyment 
of  his  privileges,  and  made  the  circuit  of 
physical  gratifications.  He  fared  delicate- 
ly ;  he  wore  costly  apparel ;  he  reveled  in 
earthly  and  sensual  delights ;  he  became 
the  companion  of  princes  and  emperors ; 
and  wherever  he  appeared  was  recognized 
as  the  gloss  of  fashion  and  the  mold  of 
form,  the  observed  of  all  observers.  He 
traveled  through  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 


14  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

world,  and  even  as  far  as  Paradise,  upon 
whose  walls  he  saw  standing  the  angels 
with  flaming  swords.  He  also  visited  the 
sun  and  planets;  and,  in  all  his  rambles, 
the  spirits  of  the  air,  the  spirits  of  the 
earth,  and  the  spirits  of  the  places  under 
the  earth,  were  all  equally  subservient  to 
his  will.  Even  space  and  time  were  as 
nothing  to  his  desires;  a  dragon  or  a  magic 
cloak  was  ever  ready  to  annihilate  one,  and 
from  the  other  he  could  call  up  at  will  the 
beings  of  any  age.  At  one  time  the  lovely 
Thais,  the  mistress  of  Alexander  of  Mace- 
don,  reappeared  and  ministered  to  his 
pleasures ;  and  at  another  Helen,  whose 
beauty  fired  the  ancient  world  and  caused 
the  fall  of  Ilion.  At  all  times  and  in  all 
places,  Mephistopheles  was  ever  at  his  side 
and  ever  obedient  to  his  wishes  —  infinite 
in  expedients,  inexhaustible  in  resources. 
However  seemingly  impossible  the  de- 
mands, however  seemingly  desperate  the 
attempt,  the  devil  kept  his  contract  to  the 
letter. 

Had  it  not  been  for  his  conscience,  Faust 
could  not  have  been  otherwise  than  happy; 
but  in  all  his  carousals,  that  silent  but  pow- 
erful monitor  was  constantly  upbraiding 
him.  With  every  worldly  wish  gratified  to 
the  full,  he  lived  a  miserable  and  wretched 
life.  He  would  willingly  have  repented, 
but  his  repentance  was  like  that  of  Cain 


GOETHE S    FAUST.  15 

and  Judas;  his  sin  was  greater  than  could 
be  forgiven :  when  he  looked  to  Heaven, 
he  could  see  no  hope ;  nothing  presented 
itself  to  his  contemplation  for  the  future 
but  hell  and  the  pains  thereof.  In  answer 
to  his  inquiries  he  was  informed  that  as 
the  flint-stone  in  the  fire  burns  red  hot 
but  consumeth  not,  so  his  immortal  soul 
was  condemned  to  everlasting  pain.  And 
when,  in  terror  of  his  approaching  end,  he 
demanded  of  the  fiend  if  there  was  indeed 
no  hope,  he  was  rebuffed  with  a  foresight 
of  his  terrible  doom.  "  Know,  .Faustus," 
replied  the' evil  spirit,  "that  the  condemned 
have  neither  end  nor  time  appointed  in  the 
which  they  may  hope  to  be  released.  If 
there  were  even  hope  that  by  throwing 
one  drop  of  water  out  of  the  sea  each  day 
until  it  were  dry ;  or  if  there  were  a  heap 
of  sand  as  high  as  from  the  earth  to  the 
heavens,  that  a  bird  carrying  away  but  one 
corn  in  a  day  —  if  even  at  the  end  of  this 
so  incalculable  labor  they  might  yet  hope 
God  would  have  mercy  on  them,  they 
would  be  comforted ;  but  there  is  no  hope 
that  God  ever  thinks  of  them,  or  that 
their  howling  will  ever  be  heard.  Yea,  it 
is  as  impossible  for  thee  to  escape  the 
wrath  to  come  as  it  is  impossible  for  thee 
to  remove  the  mountains,  or  to  empty  the 
sea,  or  to  count  the  drops  of  rain  that  have 
fallen  from  heaven  unto  this  day,  or  tell 


1 6  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

what  there  is  most  of  in  the  world.  Yea, 
and  as  impossible  as  it  is  for  a  camel  to  go 
through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  even  so  im- 
possible it  is  for  thee,  Faustus,  and  the 
rest  of  the  condemned,  to  come  again  into 
the  favor  of  God  ;  and  thus,  Faustus,  thou 
hast  heard  my  last  sentence,  and,  I  pray 
thee,  how  dost  thou  like  it  ? " 

As  the  appointed  term  drew  nearer  and 
nearer  toward  its  close,  the  unhappy  Faust 
became,  in  the  quaint  words  of  the  legend, 
"like  a  taken  murderer  or  thief,  the  which, 
finding  himself  guilty  in  conscience  before 
the  Judge,  fears  every  hour  to  die.  He 
was  grieved,  and  in  wailing  spent  his  time; 
he  went  talking  to  himself,  wringing  of  his 
hands,  sobbing  and  sighing ;  his  flesh  fell 
away  and  he  became  lean  and  haggard, 
and  kept  himself  close;  neither  could  he 
abide,  see  or  hear  of  Mephistopheles  any 
more."  At  last,  when  the  full  time  was 
about  to  expire,  he  repaired  to  a  public 
house  in  the  village  of  Rimlich,  a  half  mile 
from  Wittenburg;  and,  after  calling  his 
student  friends  about  him,  and  bidding 
them  all  farewell,  "  it  happened,"  says  the 
legend,  "  that  between  twelve  and  one  of 
the  clock  at  midnight  there  blew  against 
the  house  a  mighty  storm  of  wind,  as 
though  it  would  have  blown  the  founda- 
tions thereof  from  their  places.  Hereup- 
on the  students  began  to  fear,  and  left 


BESIT7 


GOETHES  FAUST.  17 

their  beds  ;  but  they  would  by  no  means 
stir  from  their  chambers,  though  the  host 
ran  out  of  doors,  thinking  the  house  would 
fall.  The  students,  who  lay  next  the  hall 
wherein  Dr.  Faustus  was,  soon  heard  a 
mighty  noise  and  hissing,  as  if  it  had  been 
full  of  snakes  and  adders  ;  and  presently 
the  hall  door  flew  open  and  they  heard 
Faustus  imploring  for  help,  and  crying 
murder  !  murder  !  !  but  it  was  with  a  smoth- 
ered voice,  and  very  hollow;  and  shortly 
afterward  it  died  away,  and  they  heard  him 
no  more.  In  the  morning,  as  soon  as  it 
was  light,  they  plucked  up  courage  to  go 
into  the  hall,  where  they  had  left  Faustus  ; 
but  he  was  not  there.  Instead  of  him, 
they  found  the  floor  sprinkled  with  his 
blood,  and  his  brains  cleaving  to  the  walls. 
The  devil  had  beaten  him  from  one  side 
against  another  :  in  one  corner  lay  his 
eyes,  and  in  another  his  teeth  —  a  fearful 
and  pitiful  sight  to  behold." 

Such  was  the  plot  of  the  old  legend  of 
Faust.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  it  was  a 
monkish  or  priestly  invention  ;  originating 
in  the  age  of  the  Reformation,  at  a  time 
when  the  spirit  of  inquiry  was  becoming 
dangerous  to  the  established  order  of 
things,  and  evidently  intended  to  repress 
it.  It  was  the  thirst  of  knowledge  which 
is  represented  as  misleading  Faust  ;  not 
ambition,  nor  avarice,  nor  lust,  nor  inner- 


1 8  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

ent  vice.  It  is  also  worthy  of  remark  that 
the  scene  of  the  tragedy  was  Wittenburg, 
with  its  schools  and  professorships,  cele- 
brated for  ages  as  the  foster  mother  of  phi- 
losophy. It  will  be  recollected  that  Ham- 
let, the  most  philosophic  of  Shakespeare's 
characters,  had  studied  in  Wittenburg ; 
and  Horatio,  whose  philosophy  had  ap- 
parently attempted  all  things,  both  of  heav- 
en and  earth,  is  repeatedly  asked,  "  And 
what  ma'\e  you  from  Wittenburg,  Horatio?" 
Thus  the  legend  of  Faust,  however  it  may 
have  originated,  had  a  didactic  purpose. 
It  was,  so  to  speak,  the  expression  of  the 
religious  conservatism  of  the  age  against 
the  supposed  heretical  spirit  of  reawakened 
inquiry,  which  was  gradually  overturning 
the  regime  of  the  old  dogmas.  It  was 
essentially  a  religious  lesson  ;  and  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  it  was  implicitly  be- 
lieved by  the  superstitious  of  those  days. 
The  common  people,  among  whom  it 
passed  current  and  who  shuddered  over 
its  descriptions  of  the  place  of  torments, 
were  not  intelligent  enough  to  perceive  its 
grossness  and  inconsistencies.  The  un- 
pardonable sin  which  it  portrayed,  was  the 
thirst  of  knowledge ;  a  thirst  which  we  of 
this  age  would  term  one  of  the  most  com- 
mendable of  human  desires.  The  Meph- 
istopheles  was  the  old-time  fire  and  brim- 
stone imp,  with  forked  tail  and  cloven 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  19 

foot;  the  incidents  were  low  and  insignif- 
icant; Faust  a  vulgar  voluptuary,  almost 
brutal  in  his  sensualities;  and  the  catastro- 
phe a  mere  jumble  of  blood  and  murder; 
striking  on  account  of  the  horrible  picture 
it  presented  to  the  imagination,  but  absurd 
in  all  its  connections  and  antecedents.  As 
a  whole,  the  legend  was  a  creature  of  the 
most  debased  superstition  ;  an  offspring  of 
the  old  night,  which  brought  it  forth  and 
to  which  it  properly  belonged. 

In  the  poem  of  Goethe,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  story  assumes  an  entirely  new 
aspect,  and  bears  with  it  a  significance  of 
which  anv  version  of  the  old  legend  would 

J 

have  appeared  incapable.  As  Shakespeare 
raised  Hamlet  into  the  highest  regions  of 
what  may  be  called  concrete  philosophy, 
so  Goethe  elevated  the  gross  and  coarse 
legend  of  Faust  from  its  native  bed  on  the 
lower  stratum  of  popular  superstition  to 
the  summit  of  intellectual  greatness.  The 
process  was  much  the  same  in  both  works ; 
but  Goethe,  whose  plan  was  more  compre- 
hensive, found  it  necessary  to  remodel  the 
popular  story  in  almost  all  its  details  ;  to 
prune  it  of  its  grossness  and  to  infuse  into 
it  a  spirit  altogether  unknown  to  the  leg- 
end itself.  Little  of  the  legendary  char- 
arteristics  remains  in  the  poem,  except  the 
names  of  the  chief  personages  and  the 
idea  of  a  compact  with  the  spirit  of  dark- 


2O  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

ness.  This  fragmentary  skeleton  the  poet 
has  enlarged;  turned  to  new  purposes;  add- 
ed new  members  ;  clothed  with  the  weav- 
ings  of  his  own  genius:  and  thus  changed, 
he  presents  it  to  us  in  the  form  and  with 
the  merits  of  a  new  creation.  Of  all  the 
great  works  which  the  moderns  have  pro- 
duced there  is  perhaps  no  other  so  entirely 
original,  so  completely  the  product  of  its 
author  alone. 

Under  the  hands  of  Goethe,  Faust  be- 
comes, instead  of  the  vulgar  voluptuary 
and  sensualist  of  the  legend,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  aspiring  human  soul ; 
hemmed  in  by  untoward  circumstances, 
but  manfully  struggling  for  light  and  free- 
dom. And  Mephistopheles,  instead  of  the 
sooty  imp  of  Lucifer,  becomes  the  genu- 
ine, veritable  devil  of  the  times  ;  the  spirit 
of  evil  in  the  shape  in  which  he  now 
appears.  The  modern  devil  has  discarded 
horns,  claws,  tail,  fire  and  brimstone  ;  and 
he  now  wears  the  dress  and  has  the  man- 
ners of  a  gentleman.  Upon  him  too  has 
the  progress  of  culture  had  its  influence  ; 
so  much  so  that,  in  his  new  and  improved 
condition,  even  his  own  creatures  do  not 
at  first  recognize  him.  The  only  thing 
that  indicates  his  relationship  with  the 
old-time  devil  is  the  cloven  foot,  which  he 
cannot  lay  aside;  but,  that  this  may  not 
offend  or  injure  his  prospects  in  society, 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  21 

he  wears  false  calves  and  stuffed  shoes. 
He  objects  to  being  called  Satan ;  this 
name,  he  says,  has  been  too  long  written 
in  the  story  books.  He  prefers  the  title 
of  Baron  ;  and  he  claims  to  be  a  cavalier 
like  other  cavaliers :  in  other  words,  he  is 
now  a  man  of  the  world,  and  whatever  may 
be  the  fashion  of  the  time  he  will  wear  its 
garb. 

Not  only  are  the  characters  changed, 
but  the  scope,  intent  and  object  of  the 
legend  are  transformed.  Instead  of  de- 
scriptions of  the  infernal  regions,  and  their 
different  wards  and  compartments;  instead 
of  inventories  of  the  various  fiends  and 
their  manner  of  tormenting  the  condemned ; 
instead  of  flat,  stale  and  unprofitable  con- 
versations, which  there  needs  no  ghost 
come  from  the  grave  to  tell  us ;  and  in- 
stead of  unmeaning  journeys  through  the 
air — we  have,  in  the  poem,  a  most  sublime 
statement  of  the  great,  the  all-important 
questions  of  human  destiny ;  and  a  devel- 
opment and  working  out  of  the  problem 
in  a  manner  so  masterly  that  few  as  yet 
have  been  able  to  recognize,  and  perhaps 
none  to  fully  appreciate  its  real  grandeur. 
Some  of  the  most  intelligent  readers  have 
entirely  misunderstood  it.  Coleridge  even 
used  the  expression,  "  transcendental  non- 
sense and  magic-lantern  pictures,"  in  ref- 
erence to  it.  But  a  faithful  study  of  the 


TJJTI7BRSIT7 


22  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

poem,  and  a  disposition  to  look  beneath 
the  surface,  indicate  that  the  poet  had  a 
great  meaning;  and  when  the  key  of  in- 
terpretation is  properly  applied,  the  whole 
structure  arises  before  the  mind  in  magnif- 
icent proportions  and  matchless  symmetry. 
Little  less  indeed  could  have  been  expect- 
ed of  a  work  of  which  Carlyle  well  said, 
"  it  was  matured  in  the  mysterious  depths 
of  a  vast  and  wonderful  mind,  and  bodied 
forth  with  that  truth  and  curious  felicity  of 
composition  in  which  Goethe  is  generally 
admitted  to  have  no  living  rival." 

To  properly  interpret  and  understand 
the  poem,  it  should  be  recollected  that 
Goethe  himself  wrote  a  short  criticism,  or 
rather  explanation,  of  Hamlet;  one  of  the 
briefest  but  certainly  the  most  sensible  of 
the  thousands  of  pages  written  on  that 
subject.  He  there  points  out  the  key 
which  at  once  opens  the  significance  of 
Hamlet,  and  at  the  same  time  affords  an 
example  of  the  manner  in  which  great 
poems  should  be  studied.  It  is  impossible 
to  read  that  criticism  without  feeling  that 
Goethe  heartily  approved  of  Shakespeare's 
plan  of  working  out  his  play  upon  the  basis 
of  one  or  more  fundamental  ideas;  and  we 
may  be  certain  that  in  his  own  work  he  not 
only  had  a  great  purpose  underlying  the 
whole,  but  also  that  he  placed  the  key  or 
keys  to  unlock  and  explain  it  in  the  poem 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  23 

itself.  Indeed,  the  idea  of  locking  up  the 
secrets  or  meanings  of  things,  to  be  opened 
only  by  those  who  procured  the  keys,  was 
a  favorite  of  Goethe's.  He  looked  upon 
Nature  as  a  great  secret  locked  forever  to 
those  who  could  not  read  her  language, 
but  open  to  all  who  used  the  proper  key. 
Again,  in  his  Wilhelm  Meister,  a  strange 
casket,  which  is  found  locked  and  which 
cannot  be  opened  until  the  lost  key  be 
found,  plays  an  important  part.  Even  in 
this  poem,  a  key  leads  Faust  the  way  that 
he  should  go  through  the  nether  regions. 
And  so  throughout  all  that  class  of  his 
writings,  which  admit  of  such  a  treatment, 
we  find  that  Goethe  requires  the  reader  to 
search  beneath  the  surface.  And  that  the 
diligent  inquirer  will  be  amply  repaid,  any 
one  may  answer  who  has  ever  understood 
a  page  of  him  who  "never  wrote  a  line 
without  a  meaning,  or  many  lines  without 
a  deep  and  true  meaning." 

When  we  come  to  examine  Goethe's 
Faust  in  this  spirit,  we  notice  that  it  is  a 
dramatic  poem  not  intended  for  the  stage, 
and  much  of  it  not  adapted  for  visual  rep- 
resentation. The  action  extends  over  the 
period  commencing  with  Faust's  first  in- 
cantations, or  calling  of  spirits  from  the 
vasty  deep,  and  ending  with  the  ascent  of 
his  soul  into  Heaven.  The  scene  is  laid 
variously  at  Wittenburg,  Leipsic,  the  Hartz 


24  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

Mountains,  the  Alps,  the  moving  court  of 
a  wandering  Emperor,  and  the  Ocean 
beach  :  but,  by  a  sort  of  magic  annihila- 
tion of  time  and  space,  and  by  means  of 
interludes,  we  are  also  called  upon  to  thread 
the  mazes  of  mythological  Hades,  classic 
Hellas,  the  regions  of  Gothic  romance ; 
and  at  last  we  have  a  glimpse  of  Paradise, 
and  hear  the  hymns  of  the  seraphic  choirs 
in  the  beatific  Presence.  This  vast  circle 
of  subject  is  amazing  to  contemplate,  and 
it  would  seem  an  almost  impossible  thing 
to  embrace  its  distinct  and  various  parts  in 
one  complete  whole.  To  understand  how 
this  has  been  done,  and  why  such  an  im- 
mense field  has  been  presented,  we  must 
endeavor  to  find  the  main  purpose  or  great 
underlying  idea. 

In  looking  for  this  we  observe  that  the 
poem  consists  of  two  parts,  and  that  it  is 
preceded  by  a  short  prelude  and  a  pro- 
logue. In  the  prelude  the  poet,  with  a 
few  masterly  touches,  indicates  the  nature 
and  difficulties  of  his  undertaking,  and  the 
vastness  of  his  scheme.  In  the  prologue 
the  scene  is  changed  from  earth  to  Heav- 
en, and  the  reader  is  prepared  for  the  mo- 
mentous questions  to  be  presented  by  the 
introduction  of  the  Archangels  and  the 
Lord  holding  converse  with  Mephistoph- 
eles.  The  hint  of  this  sublime  scene  is 
taken  from  the  book  of  Job  ;  and  the  ex- 


GOETHE'S  FAUST.  25 


change  of  a  few  words  shows  us,  not  only 
that  the  same  God  conceived  by  the  divine 
author  of  Job  is  meant,  but  that  Mephis- 
topheles  is  the  same  spirit  of  evil  repre- 
sented in  that  by  Satan.  Times  have 
changed,  but  the  devil  is  the  same,  differ- 
ing only  in  the  disguises  which  he  finds  it 
convenient  to  assume.  In  Job,  it  will  be 
borne  in  mind,  Satan  sneeringly  asks, 
"  Doth  Job  fear  God  for  naught  ?  Hast 
thou  not  made  an  hedge  about  him,  and 
about  his  house,  and  about  all  that  he 
hath,  on  every  side  ?  Thou  hast  blessed 
the  work  of  his  hands,  and  his  substance 
is  increased  in  the  land."  {  In  Faust  we 
find  the  same  sneering  disposition  of  the 
evil  spirit  ;  but  the  subjects  of  his  fault- 
finding are  different.  Instead  of  the  sim- 
ple days  of  the  patriarchs,  we  have  now 
the  complications  of  modern  civilization. 
Faust  is  a  modern  Job,  a  faithful  servant 
of  the  Lord  ;  but,  like  the  man  of  Uz,  he 
too  must  go  through  the  furnace  of  suffer- 
ing and  temptation.  The  Lord  of  Job 
said  to  Satan,  "  Behold,  he  is  in  thine  hand  ; 
but  save  his  life."  The  Lord  of  Faust 
says  to  Mephistopheles,  "  So  long  as  he 
lives  upon  the  earth  it  is  not  forbidden 
thee  to  mislead  him."  And  here  we  have 
the  fundamental  argument  of  Faust  :  the 
dark  strivings  of  the  earnest  modern  soul 
under  the  machinations  and  seductions  of 


26  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

the  modern  spirit  of  evil ;  or,  in  other 
words,  of  the  devil  of  an  advanced  period 
of  civilization.  We  observe  also  that  this 
modern  Satan  is  not  only  not  forbidden 
the  presence  of  the  Lord,  but,  like  the 
Satan  of  Job,  is  made  use  of  for  a  pur- 
pose— he  is  a  part  of  the  vast  plan  of  a 
beneficent  God.  In  reality,  Mephistoph- 
eles  is  only  the  obverse  side  of  the  char- 
acter of  Faust,  just  as  the  ghost  is  a  part 
of  the  character  of  Hamlet;  but  for  the 
purposes  of  the  poets  it  was  necessary  to 
represent  them  by  distinct  forms.  To 
properly  understand  either  Faust  or  Ham- 
let, this  great  fact  of  the  metaphysical 
identity,  so  to  speak,  of  the  main  person- 
ages, distinct,  yet  the  same  or  parts  of  the 
same,  must  be  borne  in  mind.  In  Job  the 
idea  is  similar;  but  the  nature  of  that  sub- 
lime production  did  not  admit  of  the  visi- 
ble separate  appearance  of  Satan  in  the 
presence  of  the  suffering  patriarch;  and 
accordingly,  though  the  whole  argument 
of  the  Sacred  Book  is  the  struggle  against 
Satan ;  and  though  we  continually  feel 
what  powerful  assaults  he  is  making  in  all 
that  Job  says,  yet  Satan  himself,  as  a  dis- 
tinct personage,  except  in  the  first  two 
chapters  nowhere  appears. 

With  this  explanation  of  the  great  un- 
derlying idea  of  Faust,  as  dimly  indicated 
in  the  prologue,  we  proceed  to  the  poem 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  2/ 

itself,  and  seek  the  reason  why  it  is  divid- 
ed into  two  separate  parts.  We  observe 
that  these  distinct  parts  are  so  different  in 
style,  purport  and  character,  that  at  first 
sight  they  seem  to  have  no  relation  to  or 
connection  with  each  other.  The  first  part 
is  generally  considered  plain  enough,  hav- 
ing a  regular  plan,  and  the  different  parts 
fitting  together  and  forming  a  consistent 
and  easily  comprehended  whole.  It  makes 
a  story,  and  a  very  fine  story,  of  itself;  and 
if  the  author  had  intended  nothing  more 
than  a  mere  play  for  the  sake  of  the  play 
alone,  Faust  would  have  ended  with  it. 
But  Goethe  did  not  intend  a  mere  play  ; 
he  had  a  magnificent  plan,  a  portion  of 
which  (that  which  he  developed  in  the  first 
part)  could  be  struck  off  with  comparative 
rapidity;  but  the  other  portion,  that  which 
is  shadowed  forth  in  the  second  part,  was 
the  most  difficult  of  all  literary  undertak- 
ings. It  did  not  appear  completed,  as 
we  said  before,  until  nearly  sixty  years 
after  the  plan  of  the  whole  was  formed, 
and  more  than  forty  years  after  the  first 
part  had  been  given  to  the  world.  And 
when  it  did  appear,  and  from  that  time  to 
this  day,  it  has  been  a  matter  of  conten- 
tion with  many  critics  even  in  Germany, 
whether,  with  all  its  brilliant  passages,  it  is 
not  in  general  a  tissue  of  mysticism  and 
absurdity. 


28  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

The  difference  of  the  two  parts  is  hint- 
ed at  very  early  in  the  poem  by  the  ex- 
pression of  Faust  that  two  souls  dwell  in 
his  breast,  which  strive  to  separate  one 
from  the  other ;  the  one  binding  him  to 
the  world,  the  other  struggling  above  the 
things  of  earth.  And  again,  when  Faust 
and  Mephistopheles  are  about  to  set  forth 
in  company  to  examine  and  see  and  feel 
what  the  life  of  man  really  is,  Mephistoph- 
eles promises  to  show  Faust  first  the  little 
and  then  the  great  world.  It  is  the  first 
of  these,  the  little  world,  the  world  of  the 
senses  and  feelings — the  story  of  that  one 
of  his  two  souls  which  binds  him  to  physic- 
al existence  —  that  is  bodied  forth  in  the 
first  part  of  the  poem.  In  the  second  part 
we  have  the  story  of  the  second  soul — that 
which  lifts  itself  above  the  senses  into  the 
world  of  intellect  and  art.  To  borrow  the 
language  of  German  metaphysics,  the  form- 
er is  the  subjective,  the  latter  the  objective 
world.  In  the  first  part  there  is  exhibited 
the  most  terrible  passion ;  in  the  second, 
merely  intellectual  enthusiasm.  In  the 
first  part  Faust  woos  and  wins  and  ruins 
Margaret,  the  purest  and  fairest  of  her  sex, 
the  representative  of  earthly  or  physical 
beauty  and  affection ;  in  the  second  he 
woos  the  mere  shade  of  the  Grecian  Hel- 
en, which  is  conjured  up  out  of  the  classic 
world  of  the  past,  and  which  stands  here 


GOETHE S    FAUST.  29 

as  the  type  of  spiritual  or  intellectual  beau- 
ty. In  the  first  part  Faust's  interests  and 
endeavors  are  confined  and  limited ;  the 
theme  is  chiefly  love  and  sorrow,  subjects 
comparatively  easy  of  representation ;  in 
the  second  part  Faust  appears  almost  an- 
other being,  and  in  an  entirely  different 
sphere ;  the  range  of  his  interests  and  en- 
deavors stretches  out  to  the  infinite ;  the 
sun  rises  as  it  were  upon  another  world  ; 
everything  is  exalted  and  betokens  a  high- 
er sort  of  existence  ;  and  instead  of  Faust's 
study  and  Margaret's  chamber,  and  the 
witches  of  the  Brocken,  we  have  the  court 
of  the  Emperor,  the  Thessalian  fields,  the 
demi-gods  of  the  classical  and  romantic 
worlds,  and  the  boundless  ocean.  In  the 
first  part  Faust's  desires  would  seem  to 
have  extended  little  beyond  his  passion  for 
Margaret;  in  the  second  part  he  not  only 
calls  upon  the  whole  world  of  art  to  min- 
ister to  his  desires,  but  he  even  seeks  to 
lay  down  laws  for  nature.  In  the  first  part 
Mephistopheles  is  all-powerful  to  destroy 
and  embitter;  in  the  second  he  finds  him- 
self out  of  his  element  and  can  only  play 
a  subordinate  role  ;  and  in  the  end,  instead 
of  the  beating  out  of  brains  which  plays 
so  important  a  figure  in  the  legend,  Faust's 
soul  entirely  escapes  him,  and  rises  puri- 
fied and  disenthralled  into  Heaven. 

In  the  first  part  Faust  is  introduced  in 


3O  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

his  narrow  Gothic  chamber,  summing  up 
his  causes  of  dissatisfaction  with  life  in 
somewhat  the  same  style  as  Hamlet  in  his 
famous  soliloquy.  Like  Hamlet,  he  con- 
templates suicide  as  a  convenient  mode  of 
making  his  quietus,  and  in  fact  raises  the 
poisoned  chalice  to  his  lips;  but  it  happens 
to  be  Easter  morning,  and  the  Christian 
hymns  which  he  hears  celebrating  the  ris- 
ing of  the  Savior  of  mankind,  arrest  his 
purpose  and  awaken  new  hopes  in  his 
bosom.  Hitherto  he  has  been  a  recluse 
and  a  student;  but  now  he  goes  forth  to 
witness  the  festivities  of  the  people  who 
enjoy  themselves,  each  according  to  his 
own  fancy,  in  the  Easter  season.  Faust 
would  also  fain  enjoy,  but  he  cannot:  the 
recluse  and  the  student  still  hang  about 
him ;  and  as  he  turns  away  in  the  dusky 
evening  to  return  dissatisfied  to  his  cham- 
ber, he  becomes  aware  of  the  presence  of 
a  strange  black  dog,  which  frisks  around, 
joins  him,  follows  him  home,  stretches 
behind  his  fireplace,  and  finally  swells  out 
and  transforms  himself  into  his  true  nature 
of  Mephistopheles,  the  evil  spirit,  the  spirit 
that  denies  and  misleads.  It  will  be  ob- 
served that  this  impersonation  of  evil  is 
not  conjured  up  like  the  devil  of  the  leg- 
end; but  comes  of  his  own  accord,  as  Satan 
crept  unbidden  into  Eden.  As  has  been 
intimated  before,  he  is  the  reverse  side  of 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  3  I 

Faust's  own  character,  the  impersonation 
of  a  principle  which  exists  only  in  the 
mind,  or  at  most  operates  only  through 
the  mind. 

Mephistopheles  soon  makes  himself 
known ;  shows  that  he  has  been  invisibly 
present  with  Faust  in  all  his  discontent 
and  despair;  convinces  him  of  his  genu- 
ine diabolic  character,  and  finally  proposes 
and  procures  the  infernal  compact,  by  the 
terms  of  which  he  is  to  become  the  serv- 
ant of  Faust  and  minister  to  all  his  desires 
in  this  life,  in  consideration  that  in  the 
after  life  Faust  shall  be  his  bondsman. 
The  bargain  being  struck  and  properly 
nominated  and  authenticated  in  the  bond, 
Faust  hurries  away  from  the  scenes  of  his 
sorrows,  and  he  and  Mephistopheles  go 
forth  to  make  the  best  of  existence  as  the}7 
shall  find  it.  They  dress  in  courtly  style, 
with  plumes  in  their  caps  and  swords  at 
their  sides ;  and  as  a  means  of  locomotion 
Mephistopheles  spreads  forth  his  cloak, 
upon  which,  with  the  ease  of  wishing  and 
the  rapidity  of  thought,  they  are  carried 
through  the  air  whithersoever  they  will. 

They  make  their  first  study  of  human 
life  in  a  famous  drinking  cellar  in  Leipsic, 
where  Mephistopheles  plays  magical  tricks 
upon  the  assembled  topers,  and  soon  sets 
them  together  by  the  ears :  a  broad  vein  of 
humor  runs  through  the  scene  ;  but  this 


32  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

phase  of  life,  this  low  kind  of  sensual  en- 
joyment, this  spectacle  of  the  play  of  the 
grosser  appetites,  is  distasteful  to  Faust- 
it  could  not  well  have  been  otherwise ;  and 
with  a  feeling  of  disgust  he  hurries  away 
from  it. 

The  next  study  is  of  that  higher  kind  of 
sensual  life,  to  the  influence  and  power  of 
which  all  men  are  more  or  less  subject- 
love,  the  tender  passion.  To  render  Faust 
the  more  susceptible,  he  is  induced  to 
drink  a  juice,  brewed  by  a  disgusting  hag, 
a  potion  well  known  to  the  tempter,  and 
which  has  evidently  availed  for  the  devil's 
peculiar  purposes  many  times  before.  The 
property  of  this  potion  is  to  make  every 
woman  appear  a  Helen  in  Faust's  eyes  ; 
and  thus  prepared,  he  meets  Margaret— 
the  pure,  guileless,  innocent  and  lovely 
Margaret  —  whom  he  wooes,  wins,  and 
wrongs.  The  scenes  in  which  the  lovers 

O 

appear,  exhibiting  the  rise  and  progress  of 
their  passion,  and  the  deepening  of  the 
colors  of  this  part  of  the  story,  from  the 
rosy  tints  of  the  first  confessions  of  affec- 
tion into  the  blackness  of  utter  and  hope- 
less despair,  are  among  the  most  powerful 
of  tragic  delineations.  And  with  the  de- 
noument  of  this  entirely  earthly  or  sensual 
passion  of  Faust's,  the  first  part  of  the 
poem  ends.  It  is  observable  that  there  is 
no  division  of  this  part  into  separate  acts  : 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  33 

the  scenes  follow  one  another  as  parts  of 
one  and  the  same  great  act,  except  the 
concluding  spectacles,  where  Margaret, 
under  condemnation  of  death  for  infanti- 
cide, is  represented  in  prison,  a  maniac ; 
and  where  her  final  salvation,  and  a  life 
and  love  beyond  what  we  have  witnessed, 
is  significantly  foreshadowed  —  this  takes 
the  form  of  a  dream  and  is  given  as  an 
interlude. 

In  the  second  part  Faust  appears  to 
have  entered  into  an  entirely  new  exist- 
ence, in  which  all  that  has  preceded  seems 
to  be  forgotten  or  ignored,  as  if  it  had  had 
no  lasting  effect  upon  him.  The  sun  rises 
upon  the  morning  twilight  of  a  new  world; 
and  Faust,  who  awakens  as  if  from  a  Le- 
thean dream,  is  surrounded  and  ministered 
upon  by  a  chorus  of  delicate  spirits,  of 
whom  the  nimble  Ariel  is  the  chief.  This, 
as  we  understand  it,  is  the  introduction 
into  an  intellectual  world  totally  distinct 
from  the  sphere  of  the  first  part.  We  de- 
tect this  also  in  the  words  of  Faust,  which 
indicate  the  transposition  from  the  sub- 
jective to  the  objective  condition:  in  other 
words,  Faust  now  begins  to  live  not  so 
much  in  himself  as  in  the  outer  world. 
The  scene  very  appropriately  opens  among 
the  Alps ;  in  those  sublime  regions  where 
nature  displays  herself  in  her  grandest 
manifestations,  and  man  most  readily  feels 


34  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

his  insignificance.  Here  Faust  gives  him- 
self up  to  the  influences  of  the  spectacle  ; 
beholds  the  coming  on  of  the  sun,  the 
light  of  the  world,  and  watches  its  rays 
gilding  one  after  the  other  the  far 
mountain-tops  and  gradually  descending 
into  the  valleys,  until  all  are  bathed  in  the 
glories  of  the  new-born  day.  This  mag- 
nificent picture  forms  a  grand  opening  for 
the  new  scenes  of  the  drama. 

We  are  next  presented  (and  here  the 
plot  of  the  second  part  begins)  with  the 
court  of  an  Emperor.  It  is,  however,  not 
the  Charles  V.  of  history,  but  a  mere  tyro 
in  the  art  of  government.  It  is  one  who 
little  regards  the  welfare  of  his  people  ; 
turns  a  deaf  ear  to  the  disorders  of  his 
empire ;  seeks  his  own  pleasures ;  wishes 
only  to  be  amused,  and  listens  rather  to 
the  jests  of  his  fool  than  the  complaints  of 
his  subjects.  It  is  a  picture  of  the  greater 
world ;  the  world  as  it  is,  thrown  into  this 
form  only  because  most  convenient  for  the 
purposes  of  the  poet.  Not  that  the  Em- 
peror becomes  an  important  personage  in 
the  drama ;  but  his  weakness  and  love  of 
shows  afford  an  opportunity  for  the  de- 
velopment of  the  story,  and  the  visible 
representation,  by  way  of  masquerades, 
spectacles  and  interludes,  of  what  other- 
wise could  not  have  been  dramatically  ex- 
pressed. 


GOETPIES    FAUST.  35 

We  have  already  adverted  to  the  very 
marked  differences  between  the  two  parts 
of  the  poem :  the  statement  of  those  dif- 
ferences implies  that  there  are  some  simi- 
larities. And  here  we  notice  in  the  first 
act  of  the  second  part,  as  a  counterpart  of 
the  Easter  festivities  which  figure  at  the 
beginning  of  the  first  part,  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  Carnival,  with  its  eccentricities 
and  masquerading  extravagances.  The 
Emperor  in  his  love  of  amusement  gives 
himself  up  to  the  spirit  of  the  hour;  and 
Mephistopheles,  who  finds  means  to  as- 
sume the  guise  and  place  of  the  court 
fool,  soon  manages  to  ingratiate  himself 
into  favor,  and  to  take  rank  at  the  impe- 
rial court  as  a  chief  friend  and  counselor, 
a  worthy  minister  of  such  a  monarch. 

Mephistopheles  being  thus  established 
in*  the  royal  household,  introduces  his 
master  Faust,  first  as  a  spectator,  and 
then  as  an  actor  in  the  Carnival.  We  are 
now  presented  with  a  series  of  magnificent 
spectacles,  commencing  with  those  in  which 
the  more  primitive  species  of  purely  intel- 
lectual manifestations  are  represented  un- 
der various  symbolical  and  mythological 
forms  ;  then  running  through  different  sta- 
ges of  intellectual  or  poetical  progress,  and 
ending  with  the  unequaled  interlude,  called 
the  Helena,  which  constitutes  the  entire 
third  act.  The  manner  in  which,  out  of 

K*   Of  THE        -3 

TJITIVBRSITT; 


36  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

the  Emperor's  luxurious  ease  and  love  of 
amusement,  the  desire  to  behold  the  fa- 
mous Helen  of  Greece  takes  its  rise  ;  and 
the  means  made  use  of  to  conjure  up  the 
lovely  shade ;  the  powerlessness  of  the 
modern  Mephistopheles  to  deal  with  the 
creations  of  the  ancient  classic  world ;  the 
descent  of  Faust  into  the  nether  regions 
of  mythology;  his  success;  the  appearance 
of  Helen  in  pantomime ;  and  the  effect  of 
it  all  upon  Faust,  who  much  to  the  dissat- 
isfaction of  Mephistopheles  is  carried  away 
by  a  suddenly  conceived  passion  for  this 
royal,  all-famous  beauty  of  the  world — all 
are  delineated  with  the  most  consummate 
art. 

The  pantomime  of  Helen,  which  may 
be  likened  in  some  respects  to  the  dumb- 
show  preceding  the  interlude  in  Hamlet, 
introduces  the  element  of  Faust's  newly 
awakened  passion.  He  becomes  enrap- 
tured with  the  form  which  for  a  moment 
coquettes  in  her  immortal  beauty  before 
his  eyes ;  and  he  is  now  possessed  with 
the  all-absorbing  desire  and  determination 
to  recall  the  real  Helen,  in  the  spirit  as 
well  as  in  the  form,  from  the  far  depths  of 
the  Profound.  It  was  only  to  amuse  the 
Emperor  that  she  was  in  the  first  place 
evoked;  now  Faust  seeks  her  for  himself. 
It  was  the  mere  shade  that  appeared  be- 
fore; now  the  real  Helen  must  be  resur- 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  37 

reeled.  But  in  this  new  undertaking 
Mephistopheles  is  even  less  potent  than 
in  the  pantomime  scenes;  and  a  new  spirit, 
the  Homunculus,  a  demon  resembling  the 
Diable  Boiteaux  of  Le  Sage,  has  to  be  cre- 
ated to  lead  the  way  through  the  classical 
Hades  to  the  eternal  abode  of  the  daugh- 
ter of  Jove.  The  composition  of  Homun- 
culus in  the  laboratory ;  his  interpretation 
of  Faust's  dream  of  Leda  and  the  swan, 
or  the  origin  of  Helen ;  his  taunting 
speeches  to  Mephistopheles ;  his  descent 
with  Faust  and  Mephistopheles  into  the 
classic  infernal  world ;  their  meeting  with 
the  griffins  and  sphinxes,  which  favor 
Faust  but  frown  upon  Mephistopheles ; 
Faust's  communications  with  Chiron,  the 
centaur,  who  was  teacher  of  the  Argo- 
nauts, and  who  describes  from  actual 
knowledge  the  characteristics  of  those 
demi-gods  ;  the  conversations  with  the  old 
Greek  philosophers,  Thales  and  Anaxago- 
ras,  representatives  of  the  Neptunic  and 
Plutonic  theories  of  cosmogony ;  the  visit 
to  the  grim  Nereus,  the  sea  god  ;  the  un- 
masking of  the  inconstant  Proteus;  and 
the  coming  of  the  well-beloved  Galatea, 
drawn  upon  her  chariot  of  shell  through 
the  ocean  waves — all  these  various  scenes, 
which  represent  the  progress  of  Faust's 
intellectual  culture,  are  portrayed  with  a 
delicacy,  and  yet  a  strength  and  meaning, 


38  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

which  are  in  vain  sought  in  any  other  mod- 
ern reproductions  of  mythological  subjects. 
Faust  has  now  advanced  far  enough  in 
his  objective  cultivation  to  appreciate  and 
enjoy  the  highest  culture ;  and  this  is  pre- 
sented before  us  in  the  living,  breathing, 
speaking  form  of  Helen ;  and  thus  we  see 
her  in  the  celebrated  interlude  of  the  Hel- 
ena. She  makes  her  appearance  before 
the  palace  of  Menelaus,  in  Sparta,  at  the 
time  of  the  return  of  the  Greeks  from  the 
siege  and  overthrow  of  Troy.  Mephis- 
topheles,  however,  who  has  borrowed  the 
form  of  Phorcyas,  one  of  the  classical 
witches  soon  induces  her  to  believe  that 
she  has  been  devoted  by  the  Greeks  to  a 
bloody  sacrifice ;  and  under  this  apprehen- 
sion she  consents  to  fly  from  the  threat- 
ened doom.  No  sooner  has  she  spoken 
her  willingness  to  escape  than,  by  a  sud- 
den change  of  scene,  she  and  a  chorus  of 
captive  Trojan  women,  who  accompany  her 
as  attendants,  are  transported  to  Faust's 
castle,  a  structure  of  the  middle  ages,  situ- 
ated behind  the  northern  mountains.  Here 
she  is  offered  protection,  and  a  kingdom — 
in  other  words :  at  the  revival  of  learning 
after  the  lapse  of  the  dark  ages,  the  classic 
culture  is  welcomed  with  open  arms.  And 
now  we  have  Faust's  high-toned  courtship 
of  the  royal  beauty;  their  union;  the  birth 
of  Euphorion,  or  romantic  poetry;  his 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  39 

mounting  of  the  heights ;  his  attempts  to 
fly,  and  his  Icarian  fate ;  and  finally,  as  a 
conclusion  of  this  long  series  of  pictures, 
the  departure  of  Helen,  who  with  a  fare- 
well kiss,  embracing  Faust,  disappears,  leav- 
ing her  garments  in  his  arms.  These  gar- 
ments at  once  dissolve  into  clouds ;  sur- 
round Faust ;  lift  him  into  the  ether,  and 
bear  him  away  with  them  ;  while  Mephis- 
topheles  lays  aside  the  mask  of  Phorcyas 
and  steps  forward  as  if  to  comment  and 
moralize  upon  the  play. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  act — for, 
as  we  said  before,  the  Helena  constitutes 
the  entire  third  act  —  we  are  supposed  to 
have  left  the  classical  world  behind  us. 
We  now  behold  a  strange  cloud,  which  is 
seen  to  come  over  toward  the  pinnacle  of 
a  mountain,  where  it  rests  for  a  moment, 
opens  its  folds,  and  Faust  steps  forth;  after 
which,  again  rising,  it  floats  off,  assuming 
different  shapes,  and  finally  settles  in  the 
far  east,  formless  and  magnificent  like  a 
distant  iceberg.  This  significant  cloud,  as 
can  easily  be  gathered  from  the  plot,  was 
once  the  garments  of  the  Grecian  Helen ; 
in  other  words,  it  represents  the  rhetoric 
of  the  classic  culture,  all  that  Helen  left 
when  she  returned  again  into  the  bosom 
of  the  Past. 

As  Faust  stands  upon  the  mountain— 
and  here,  as  has  been  already  intimated, 


40  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

we  have  evidently  arrived  at  a  much  newer 
degree  of  culture  —  a  seven-leagued  boot 
gropes  its  way  up  toward  him,  and  pres- 
ently a  second  one  follows ;  they  bring 
Mephistopheles,  who  descends  from  them  ; 
after  which  the  boots  hurry  away  and  are 
seen  no  more.  After  they  have  served  the 
purposes  of  the  skeptic  doubt  and  denial, 
these  monsters  and  all  they  represent  van- 
ish. The  scene,  which  now  takes  place 
between  Faust  and  Mephistopheles,  resem- 
bles the  temptation  described  by  the  Evan- 
gelist ;  the  evil  spirit  points  out  and  offers 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  and  the 
glory  of  them ;  but  Faust,  cultivated  as  he 
now  is,  rejects  the  offer  and  suddenly  be- 
comes animated  with  the  new  and  magnifi- 
cent idea  of  restraining  the  inroads  of  the 
ocean,  which  he  beholds  encroaching  upon 
the  land,  and  winning  for  himself  a  realm 
in  the  reclaimed  territory — a  poetical  con- 
ception pregnant  with  meaning  and  unsur- 
passed for  sublimity.  To  prepare  the  way 
for  this  grand  project,  the  Emperor  is  again 
introduced,  but  in  an  altered  condition  from 
that  in  which  we  first  saw  him.'  Since  that 
time  his  concerns  have  fared  badly.  In  the 
beginning  of  his  intercourse  with  Mephis- 
topheles, being  sadly  in  want  of  the  where- 
withal to  maintain  his  authority  and  sup- 
port his  expensive  love  of  shows,  the  latter 
invented  paper  money,  the  appearance  of 


GOETHE  S    FAUST.  41 

value  without  the  substance ;  and  for  a 
while  all  went  well.  But  this  scrip,  this  at 
that  time  new  invention  of  the  devil,  was 
soon  found  not  to  be  a  genuine  circulating 
medium;  there  was  no  gold  in  the  impe- 
rial exchequer  to  redeem  it ;  the  cheat  and 
delusion  was  soon  exposed ;  everything  has 
again  fallen  into  disorder ;  and,  to  make 
all  worse,  a  new  Emperor  has  now  been 
chosen  ;  rebellion  stalks  abroad,  and  loyal 
and  disloyal  forces  confront  each  other  in 
the  imminent  deadly  field.  This  conjunct- 
ure of  affairs  presents  the  proper  moment 
for  the  adventurers,  Faust  and  Mephistoph- 
eles,  to  advance :  they  offer  their  services 
to  the  Emperor;  enter  the  lists  on  his 
side ;  fight  his  battles  and  overthrow  his 
enemies.  The  spoils  are  immense ;  and 
in  the  distribution  of  them,  Faust,  as  the 
reward  of  his  assistance,  receives  a  grant 
of  the  ocean  strand,  which  thus  becomes 
his  own  to  reclaim  and  possess. 

Between  the  end  of  the  fourth  and  the 
beginning  of  the  fifth  act,  a  great  space  of 
time  is  supposed  to  have  intervened,  dur- 
ing which  Faust  has  succeeded  in  dyking 
out  the  ocean  and  reclaiming  his  territo- 
ries. From  the  balconies  of  his  palace, 
which  he  has  built  in  his  newly  made 
ground,  he  looks  abroad  over  a  wide  pros- 
pect of  land  and  sea,  and  can  call  it  all  his 
own  —  all  except  the  cottage,  chapel  and 

6 


42  GOETHE  S    FAUST. 

garden  of  Philemon  and  Baucis,  a  poor 
and  pious  old  couple,  which  impede  his 
prospect  and  are  an  eye-sore  to  him.  The 
ringing  of  their  chapel  bell  is  particularly 
annoying,  as  it  reminds  him  that  the  con- 
tinuity of  his  possessions  is  not  unbroken. 
He  would  willingly  purchase,  but  the  old 
couple  will  not  sell ;  and  it  seems  that 
nothing  will  induce  them  to  give  up  their 
patriarchal  possessions  and  beloved  linden 
trees.  And  now,  like  Ahab,  King  of  Sa- 
maria, who  lusted  after  the  vineyard  of  his 
neighbor  Naboth,  Faust  lusts  after  the 
garden  of  Philemon ;  and  like  Jezebel,  the 
wicked  Queen,  who  caused  Naboth  to  be 
stoned  till  he  died,  and  presented  her  lord 
with  the  coveted  estate,  Mephistopheles 
finds  means  to  burn  the  cottage  of  Phile- 
mon to  the  ground,  and  presents  to  his 
master  the  unobstructed  view.  But  here 
the  parallel  ceases;  here  Faust  rises  in  the 
majesty  of  his  manhood  and  the  perfec- 
tion of  his  culture  ;  for,  however  much 
annoyed  he  has  been  by  the  neighborhood 
of  the  uncompromising  old  couple,  he  in- 
dignantly disowns  the  robbery  and  curses 
the  wanton  destruction  of  their  posses- 
sions. Here  he  stands  justified  before  us, 
a  noble  spectacle,  a  just  man.  To  this  ex- 
cellence has  his  intellect  advanced  —  that 
it  has  reached  and  assimilated  the  highest 
and  noblest  principles  of  morals  as  a  part 


o»        ^ 


UFI7IESITT 


GOETHE'S  FAUST. 


of  itself.  Farther  than  this,  man  can  not 
go ;  it  is  the  last  step  of  intellectual  prog- 
ress ;  and  accordingly,  his  work  of  devel- 
opment being  done,  Faust's  term  of  exist- 
ence draws  on  apace.  The  ailments  of 
extreme  age  beset  him,  and  Care  blows  her 
withering  and  blinding  breath ;  but  he  still 
takes  an  animated  part  in  the  labors  of 
firmly  establishing  the  new  realms,  which 
he  has  gained  from  the  ocean;  and  he 
fondly  looks  forward  to  the  time  when 
they  shall  become  the  free  and  happy  home 
of  future  millions,  to  whom  he  devotes 
them.  All  this  constitutes  a  sublime  pic- 
ture of  benevolence  and  humanity,  the 
bloom  and  flower  of  all  the  objective  cul- 
ture, whose  strange  history  we  have  thus 
been  following. 

We  now  come  to  the  last,  dread,  inevita- 
ble hour.  It  will  have  been  observed  that, 
in  the  compact  with  the  evil  spirit,  accord- 
ing to  the  poem,  there  was  no  term  of  life 
agreed  upon,  as  in  the  legend  ;  the  condi- 
tion simply  was  that  Mephistopheles  might 
claim  his  pledge  when  Faust  should  say  to 
the  passing  moment.  "  Stay,  thou  art  beau- 
tiful !"  in  other  words,  whenever  he  should 
feel  a  pleasure  and  enjoyment  in  life.  And 
here,  at  last,  in  the  fruition  of  his  strivings; 
in  the  contemplation  of  the  conquests  he 
has  made  from  the  ocean,  the  emblem  of 
the  infinite ;  in  the  joyful  and  glorious  an- 


44  GOETHE  S   FAUST. 

ticipation  of  the  immortal  reward  of  his 
widely  benevolent  and  humane  undertak- 
ings— here,  at  last,  he  feels  that  he  enjoys; 
and  he  exclaims  to  the  moment,  "  Stay, 
thou  art  fair!"  And  with  these  words, 
which  Mephistopheles,  with  all  his  prof- 
fered pleasures,  could  not  wring  from  him, 
and  which  are  called  forth  only  by  the  en- 
joyment of  what  of  good  and  great  he  has 
himself  accomplished,  he  expires. 

In  all  this  second  part  of  the  poem, 
which,  as  we  observed  before,  is  an  attempt 
to  represent  under  visible  forms  intellect- 
ual or  spiritual  culture,  everything  neces- 
sarily takes  a  symbolical  or  allegorical  form ; 
and  the  story,  or  series  of  stories,  illustra- 
tive of  the  character  and  purposes  of  art, 
science  and  morals,  are  shadowed  forth  in 
the  most  subtle  but  masterly  pictures.  To 
adequately  describe  in  prose,  if  they  could 
at  all  be  described  in  prose,  the  number- 
less meanings  that  are  conveyed  to  the 
studied  mind  by  this  matchless  poetry, 
would  require  commentary  after  commen- 
tary. It  is  with  a  lavish  hand  that  the  poet 
has  scattered  the  treasures  of  his  gigantic 
genius  through  every  scene,  and  through- 
out the  whole  poem  kept  steadily  in  view 
the  sublime  conclusion.  For,  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end,  the  general  plan  and 
purport  of  the  whole  was  ever  present  to 
the-  poet ;  and  every  part  has  been  worked 


GOETHE S    FAUST.  45 

out  in  view  of  the  final  justification  and 
salvation  of  the  soul.  From  the  begin- 
ning of  the  poem,  indeed,  it  might  have 
been  anticipated  that  Faust's  end  would  be 
far  different  from  the  bloody  catastrophe 
depicted  in  the  legend.  It  might  have 
been  foreseen  that  in  the  providence  of 
the  Lord,  described  in  the  prologue,  the 
struggling  soul  would  in  the  end  rise  supe- 
rior to  the  spirit  of  evil.  Tried  in  the  hot- 
test fires  of  tribulation,  the  earnest  soul  is 
destined  for  immortality,  not  death.  And 
here,  accordingly,  when  Faust  expires, 
happy  in  the  consciousness  and  satisfac- 
tion of  his  good  works  ;  though,  by  the 
strict  letter  of  his  compact,  Mephistoph- 
eles  may  claim  him,  and  marshals  his  min- 
ions to  seize  the  soul  as  it  issues  from  its 
mortal  frame,  his  efforts  are  in  vain.  All 
are  crowded  aside  by  the  angels  of  light, 
in  the  midst  of  whom  his  spirit,  divested 
of  all  earthliness,  rises  into  a  blessed  eter- 
nity. The  gates  of  Heaven  are  thrown 
open  ;  and  the  kindred  spirit  of  the  pure 
and  angelic  Margaret  comes  forward  to 
welcome  and  minister  forever  upon  the 
noble  but  sorely-tried  character  which  in 
life  she  loved.  The  power  of  poetry  seems 
to  have  reached  its  acme  in  these  scenes 
at  the  close  of  the  poem.  Nothing  per- 
haps in  the  whole  range  of  poetic  litera- 
ture excels  the  last  few  pages,  particularly 


46  GOETHE'S  FAUST. 

the  grateful  outpourings  of  the  spirit  of 
Margaret  in  Heaven,  the  poetical  repre- 
sentation, if  we  may  so  term  it,  of  Chris- 
tian redemption. 

It  will  thus  be  seen,  even  from  this  brief 
and  necessarily  imperfect  sketch  of  the 
poem,  that  the  subject,  as  Goethe  has  treat- 
ed it,  is  one  of  the  most  deeply  interesting 
and  important  within  the  who'e  scope  of 
human  endeavor.  As  it  has  been  some- 
where said  that  there  is  nothing  that  the 
mind  of  man  can  conceive,  however  shad- 
owy, which  literature  will  not  attempt  to 
describe  or  portray,  however  difficult ;  so 
we  look  upon  this  magnificent  poem  as 
the  attempt,  and  we  believe  the  successful 
attempt,  to  represent  this  most  shadowy 
and  difficult  of  subjects  —  the  struggle  of 
the  soul  of  man  in  its  aspirations  toward 
spiritual  light.  It  is  a  subject  which  can 
be  adequately  represented  only  by  poetry, 
and  perhaps  only  by  poetry  of  symbolical 
or  figurative  character.  It  is  the  attempt 
to  represent  by  poetic  figures  and  light, 
delicate  suggestive  symbols,  great  moral 
and  metaphysical  truths  —  truths  toward 
which  morals  and  metaphysics,  as  sciences, 
tend  and  point,  and  for  the  sake  of  which 
alone  they  are  valuable ;  but  truths  which, 
as  mere  sciences,  they  fail  and  must  ever 
fail  to  express. 


trHIVBRSITY 


21-95m-7,'37 


Stockton,  Calif. 


14  DAY  USE 

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